


the spaces between stars

by auras



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Lance is not very good at Feelings™, M/M, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-30
Updated: 2018-05-30
Packaged: 2019-05-15 23:57:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14800379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/auras/pseuds/auras
Summary: Interstellar space—The distance between two stars,The hole in his heart





	the spaces between stars

**Author's Note:**

> thank you to [mo](http://archiveofourown.org/users/notrover), for being an amazing beta  
> thank you to jeremy shada, my hero, for fuelling my love for klance

✩

On the day that Keith leaves the team for the Marmora base, right before he has to go, he finds himself standing in Lance’s room.

Lance isn’t sure _why_ Keith is in his room, of all places. Maybe he’s been making one-on-one goodbye visits to each of the paladins. _Yeah, that would make sense_ , he reasons.

“So,” Keith begins, scratching at the back of his head awkwardly. Lance’s eyes follow the other boy’s movements, watching the way his arm muscles flex and tighten as his hand moves to rub at his nape.

_He seems tense,_ Lance notes absently, before, _His hair’s so long now. Maybe he should get a haircut._

Keith coughs, bringing Lance’s attention back to him, and Lance’s eyes snap back up to meet his gaze. “I’m leaving, for real. To join the Blades.”

Lance laughs lightly, hoping to ease the tension in the room that is almost palpable right now. “Yeah, that was a pretty dramatic exit you made just now. I'm almost impressed,” he says.

“I’m not very good at goodbyes,” Keith admits sheepishly, “All the other times in my life, it was usually other people leaving me instead. And it was always without any warning, so there was never really any time for a proper farewell.”

Lance feels a twinge in his heart at the other boy’s sentence, but maintains a tight-lipped smile.

“That’s okay,” he tells Keith. “First time for everything, mullet. Besides, it’s not really _goodbye_ -goodbye, is it? It’s more of a see-you-later, isn’t it?” His voice goes an octave higher, and it’s almost pleading. Normally, it would be a blow to his pride to sound so desperate, especially around Keith, his Rival Number One, but he finds that at this point, he can’t care less.

He’s not really sure when their dynamic properly changed. How they had gone from neck-to-neck rivals, to hesitant-and-awkward acquaintances, to kind-of-but-maybe-not-really friends. But the important thing, the truth of the matter now, was that they were something of a duo. Partners. It would be hard to properly describe their relationship or put it into words, really. That wasn’t important to Lance anyway, since words weren’t his forte. The main point was that regardless of what their relationship was or is, Keith had always been there. Regardless of whether it was when they were at each other’s necks or fighting Galra back-to-back, Keith had always been part of the equation.

But not anymore, Lance thinks bitterly, because Keith was leaving, for real.

Keith bites his lip, hard, until there are tiny spots of blood dotted on the newly formed cuts. He turns his gaze away, and his voice is soft and hoarse when he finally replies, “I don’t know. Maybe. I’m not sure.”

His sentences are broken, like he’s forcing them out. Broken, like shattered shards of glass, with sharp edges that cut into Lance for reasons he can’t explain. Lance glares angrily at the ground with his fists clenched, focusing on the spots on the floor where the tiles have turned a shade darker than the rest. This wasn’t supposed to happen. It was supposed to be a happy goodbye, sending Keith off to learn more about who he was, to find himself. Ironic, maybe, Lance thinks, that this would leave _him_ feeling so lost.

Lance glances up to see Keith still chewing at his bottom lip nervously. He looks like he wants to say more, but shakes his head quickly when he catches Lance looking at him. He gives Lance a watery smile, and the taller boy feels his heart twinge again. They both move towards each other at the same time, and wrap their arms around the other. It’s funny, Lance thinks later, how they both seemed to know that the other would be initiating a hug. Maybe that came from being partners on the battlefield, that they were now so in tune with each other’s actions that they knew what the other was thinking, what their next move would be.

“Sorry,” Keith mumbles, tightening his grip around Lance’s shoulders.

“That’s okay,” Lance repeats, patting Keith’s back lightly. He doesn’t know what else to say to comfort the other boy, or himself, for that matter. Maybe he isn’t very good at goodbyes either.

Keith pulls away, and he’s no longer biting his lip when he does. That’s when Lance notices that his bottom lip is wobbling, trembling against the other boy’s will.

“Sorry,” Keith says again, offering Lance another forced smile of his own as he starts to move to exit the room, his movements stiff. It seems like the apology is for himself as much as it is for Lance. There is a sadness to his smile that Lance cannot yet understand.

 

✧

 

“Hey, man, have you been feeling okay?” Hunk asks in the middle of one of their midnight gaming sessions in Lance’s room, three weeks after Keith leaves.

Lance frowns, the harsh blue light from the screen illuminating the room and highlighting the sharp creases and contours of his face.

“Yeah,” he says, not tearing his eyes away from the video game, “Why’d you ask?”

“It’s just, you’ve seemed out of it lately,” Hunk tells him, tentatively.

Lance hums flippantly, keeping his attention on the game. They’re almost near the end now, with just one more puzzle to go. He knows this from the times he’s completed it with Pidge; there’s only one last maze before they reach the dungeon with the final boss battle.

“It’s not really that obvious, and I know you’ve been trying to hide and cover it up, even if you’re not aware,” Hunk presses. “But I’ve been your best friend for years now and I can tell, dude.”

“I’m fine, Hunk, really,” Lance replies. “Help heal my guy, please.”

Hunk sighs as he moves his character to perform a healing spell on Lance’s, whose health is at half and mana is completely drained. “I’m just worried for you, Lance,” he says. “Ever since Keith left to join the Blade of Marmora you’ve seemed...lonelier. More forlorn.”

Lance gives him a wry laugh, eyes trained on the tiny bars that are filling up from Hunk’s mage’s spell.

“I’m not,” he says, but Hunk notices how Lance’s voice drops ever so slightly. “It must just be because I’m upset that I still have all these unused prank ideas that I can’t carry out now that my prime target is gone. And all the witty comebacks I had saved to use on Keith.”

The two of them fall silent, Lance forcing himself to focus on the game and Hunk seemingly lost in his thoughts.

They complete the maze with the help of Hunk’s navigation spell and enter the final dungeon. There aren’t any smaller enemies this time. Pidge had told him that the game system used an algorithm to calculate and determine how many enemies they would have to fight in the dungeon before reaching the final boss. He must have struck it lucky this time, with zero enemies to fight. Strange, Lance thinks, because he doesn’t feel very lucky.

They reach the final room, where the last boss stands. He’s played this enough times to know how to finish the game swiftly and effectively. Hunk’s mage casts a spell on Lance’s knight to enhance his attack power and Lance jabs at a familiar button combination, watching his character attack the dragon boss on the screen. It’s a direct, critical attack that hits its mark perfectly, straight through the dragon’s heart.

_KO._

It’s only when the closing credits start rolling that Hunk replies, softly, “Yeah, must be.”

Lance finally tears his gaze from the red pixelated words on the screen to look at his friend. There is a pity in his eyes that Lance cannot yet understand.

 

✧

 

Not that he has been counting or anything, but Lance’s mind marks the date when it has been one hundred and twenty days since Keith left to join the Blade of Marmora. One-third of an Earth year; four months; a hundred and twenty days.

Nothing really special happens on that day, and it’s not a unique date other than the fact that it’s been a hundred and twenty days since Keith left the team. That was the thing, after Keith left. Lance’s days became increasingly dull without Keith there for him to tease and banter with. All the days become sort of ordinary and significantly less amusing.

He could still pin some dates to certain missions, like the day when he got to be a diplomatic ambassador on the planet filled with bird-people, because Allura and Coran had fallen ill on that day (it turned out that Alteans were allergic to feathers). Or the day when they found an ancient planet reminiscent of Earth during one of their reconnaissance missions. But other than that, the days in between were just _boring._ The days had started to blur into one big Keith-less blob.

Prior to Keith leaving, he used to mark his dates with things-that-happened-to-Keith, subconsciously. He thinks it’s because Keith was the only one who would react so _drastically_ to his ribbing, which made him the ideal target for most of it. Like that one day when he and Hunk pranked Keith by spiking all of his food with nunvill, or the time he spent the entire day boasting to one _very_ annoyed Keith about how he’d broken the record for most drones destroyed in five minutes during a training session. There used to be very little time gaps between the marked days, he realises, because there was always _something_ to do with Keith, regardless of whether it was good or bad.

That was the thing, when you’re stuck on a ship in space with the same few people. They’re always somewhere close, and their presence becomes a familiarity, like a part of you. His days had, gradually, turned from being painfully aware of Keith to accepting Keith as someone who fit easily and belonged in his life.

But now Keith was gone.

After Keith left, there wasn’t that much of a change to the team’s structure, not really. They still had all five paladins, now that Shiro could take Keith’s place back as the Black Paladin while Lance had moved to pilot Red and Allura took his spot as the Blue Paladin. They still had all five pillars of support for Voltron. But it doesn’t _feel_ the same.

He thinks Keith leaving Voltron isn’t like a wall of a home being smashed and demolished after an earth-shattering earthquake, rendering it useless and inhabitable. It was more like a door being removed subtly, maybe. Here one day, gone the next. The house is still the same house, but not quite. The home still stands. It’s still there, and the changes made to it don’t change the structure of the building significantly, per se.

And at first it’s okay. You’d notice that there’s a door missing, but it won’t bother you _that_ much, not while you still have all four walls and a roof. But over time, the lack of a door becomes more obvious, because along with it comes the realisation that you’re trapped. Confined in a dark, grey house, unable to go outside, to feel the warmth of the sun on your skin.

Lance tries to ignore it, the claustrophobic feeling of uneasiness like something was _wrong_ , because he has to be at the peak of his performance; the fate of the entire universe is literally resting on his shoulders. He is adaptable, or at least he tries to be. Water as an element was as such, always going with the flow and managing to fit into all sorts of spaces by being fluid and moving with change.

But water as an element is also cold and unforgiving, drowning sailors who dared venture too far, pushing the air out of their lungs until they can’t breathe. Forcing them deeper, deeper, deeper down into the icy, empty darkness of the seas.

That’s how he feels right now, Lance thinks, trapped and drowning, like he can’t breathe. Like something as vital as oxygen has been stripped from him.

His life turns from being painfully aware of Keith’s presence to being painfully aware of tiny, little marks and the empty spaces he leaves behind instead. Like footprints in the sand; scratch marks on the walls of the training deck left by Keith’s blade, a barely visible dent on Red’s control panel. Lance feels his gaze drawn to them and he catches himself staring at the marks unconsciously, feeling an ache in his chest. There is an emptiness in his heart that Lance cannot yet understand.

 

✧

 

The thing about doors is that they function both ways. They were an exit, an ending, a _goodbye._ But also an entrance, a beginning, a _hello._

 

✧

 

Coran bursts into his room and wakes him up on one of the days (day two hundred and fourteen _since_ ) with a strange fanfare that sounds like a very bad mashup and remix of a tuba and trumpet piece.

Lance glares at Coran because the older man had just interrupted a _very_ good dream where he was back on Earth with the lions as kittens, but Coran doesn’t seem to notice as he ushers Lance to his feet.

“Hunk told me it’s your birthday, Lance!” Coran exclaims gleefully, slapping his back good-naturedly. Lance immediately misses the previous cacophony because even that was softer than Coran’s not-quite-indoor voice.

“It is?”

He’d forgotten to keep track, since he had been keeping himself busy with missions and training. That, and the fact that Earth dates were irrelevant now that they were in space.

“I did the calculations upon Hunk’s request and right at this moment it should be July 28th on Earth, which is your birthday!” Coran tells him. “He was telling me that on their birthdays, Earthlings would throw a big celebration. Strange, because Alteans don’t really celebrate birthdays. We do, however, commemorate death-days of our fallen warriors and leaders.”

Lance winces at the comparison, but a smile manages to find its way onto his face anyway. “Thanks, Coran,” he says sincerely, nodding at the older man.

“No problem, Lance! Now hurry up and get changed; we have a whole day of proper festivities and gifts awaiting.”

The day ends up being celebration-filled, as Coran had promised, and surprisingly accident-free (he’d expected _something_ to go awry considering how hyper and overly enthusiastic Coran was about celebrations).

Hunk bakes him a cake with alien wildberries that taste similar to strawberries, with the only minor downside being that it left a bright red stain on his tongue that won’t come off no matter how hard he tries. He doesn’t really mind though, because along with it came the lingering fruity, syrupy taste of the berries that stayed throughout the day.

Pidge gets him not one, but _three_ new video games, complete with all the characters and extras unlocked. Lance grins as he ruffles her hair, thanking her and promising that they’d complete the multiplayer modes together soon. (Hunk spends most of his time fiddling with his tech now, and Lance doesn’t want to bother his friend so he’d stopped requesting for game nights, so he’s missed being able to play as a tag team.)

Shiro, Allura and Coran give him a present that they’d chosen together (actually, it’s more of just Shiro since the Alteans weren’t really sure what birthday celebrations entailed, but Shiro had kindly offered to let it count as their gifts as well). It’s a keychain, with seven charms hanging from it. Five of the charms are cats of different colours—their paladin colours, Lance realises—and the other two are a flower and a moustache.

“It represents Team Voltron,” Allura tells him, beaming wide. “Shiro told me how Earthlings like to have good luck charms, so you can think of this as one, I suppose. Since Voltron is a protector of the universe.”

“Thank you, Allura,” he smiles, holding the gift gently in his palm, “Thanks, you guys. This was the best space-birthday ever.”

He tries not to think about the fact that there were seven charms hanging off the ring of the keychain, and only six people in the room.

 

Later that night, he’s sitting alone in his room, all partied out. He fiddles the keychain that the team had gotten for him, thumbing the red kitten charm.

_It’s cute,_ he thinks absently, lips quirking up before his mind tacks on, _like him._

He’s so lost in his thoughts that he doesn’t hear the door to his room slide open, or the quiet footsteps that he’d gotten used to a long time ago.

Lance only hears it— _him_ —when the intruder utters a single word, quiet and hesitant: “Lance?”

He turns to look up, and finds himself staring at a familiar face. One that he hasn’t seen in a while, but can remember as clear as day because it’s been imprinted in his mind and filling his thoughts for the past seven months now.

His eyes glide over the other boy’s face. He hasn’t changed much, from the day he’d left the team. Day zero, compared to now, day two hundred and fourteen.

_His face is tense,_ Lance thinks. _His hair grew longer too._

He feels his chest tighten; a feeling of drowning, but also of taking his first breath of air, all at once.

“Keith,” he whispers numbly, still in disbelief.

Keith’s face starts to relax slowly. Lance’s eyes follow the soft curve of the other boy’s lips as a smile starts to make its way onto his face.

The smile grows, bigger and brighter. With it, the warmth in Lance’s chest. Keith is wearing a full-blown smile now, happy and genuine.

Lance’s gaze moves up, until his eyes lock with a set of deep purple ones. Dark purple, like the infinite expanse of space they’ve been floating in. He could get lost in them, he thinks.

Keith’s smile is reflected in his eyes, too, because he stares back at Lance, eyes glossy with tears and shimmering with affection and fondness.

Lance’s fingers move unconsciously to curl around the red cat charm of the keychain. A good luck charm, Allura had said. The cool metal of the charm is a stark contrast to his warm palm. He feels it in his clenched fist, the slight stuttering of his heart beating in his chest. It’s racing, like it does after a good training session that leaves him feeling satisfied, or when he visits a new planet and falls in love with space all over again.

“Lance,” Keith says again, the corners of his eyes crinkling slightly. “I’m sorry I took so long. Happy birthday.”

Lance thinks he finally understands.

**Author's Note:**

> _It’s like coming home after a long trip. That’s what love is like. It’s like coming home._
> 
> **Piper Chapman, What is love?**  
> 
> 
>   
> 
> 
> \-----
> 
>   
> in case you're wondering, yes i chose the number two hundred and fourteen because 2.14 is valentine's day
> 
> the haiku used for the summary is from [here](http://polouris.tumblr.com/post/170450407217/interstellar-space-the-distance-between-two)
> 
> come say hi on [tumblr](http://kestrels.tumblr.com) or [twitter](http://twitter.com/marmorites)!


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